Inevitability
by StarWalker42
Summary: I guess I should feel scared, nervous at least, but this feels natural. This is probably how dying is meant to feel.


**Summary:** I guess I should feel scared, nervous at least, but this feels natural. This is probably how dying is meant to feel.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Star Wars or its characters, I just place them in situations which people find upsetting.

 **A/N:** Sorry it's been so long, and sorry that this is what I return with. This is a little angsty one shot that's an AU of Bespin- I apologise in advance.

* * *

 _ **Inevitability**_

 _I don't want to break someone's heart, but you can't control that. A broken heart happens; that's inevitable.  
_

 _-Lykke Li_

 _Am I dead?_

No. If I was dead, they'd let it stop, let me sleep. Let me rest here on this rack forever until the pain goes away. Until I never feel anything again.

Ever.

Because it keeps making me feel things, things I don't want to feel, and remember things I don't want to remember. Those things that keep my mind racing, that keep my thoughts going so I can't stop even if I want to.

Lando. Vader. Chewie. Luke.

Leia.

Is _she_ dead?

She's too small, impossibly fragile, laced with millions of interwoven cracks that you can't see on the surface because she doesn't _let_ you see them. I'm always surprised that she has lasted this long without breaking down, and part of me suspects that she won't get through this. But another thing you learn, once you get to know her: she is strong. So strong. I almost feel bad doubting her, because if anyone could get through this, I know it would be her.

I just don't know how many cracks there will be afterwards.

New pain cuts through my mind like a vibroknife. It's not from the grid, but from falling from it, as I slump to the ground and twist my ankle in the process. I open my eyes, though they're swollen and heavy, to armoured shin plates like a gleaming white cage around me. Rough hands grab my arms to pull me up, but I can't stand. Can't even think about walking.

They drag me.

They pull me down the corridor, catching my feet on the corridor floor and jolting me out of their grip. My chest impacts the floor plates with an agonising crash, though I don't feel any pain from the fall. It's as if my body's become too used to pain by now.

The floor is actually pretty comfortable. They could leave me here, couldn't they? I mean, dragging me further isn't going to achieve anything, surely they know that. It isn't going to stop my pain, and there's no way I'm going to decide to walk. If they don't know that, then I sure do. Nothing will help me get out of this.

I know I'm going to die.

Of course they won't just leave me here. The stormtroopers heft me up again, pull me a further agonising two minutes down the corridor, then stop. I wish they'd drop me now. Let me fade away on the floor, in peace, and let me escape from this endless hell where everything hurts and nothing makes sense.

A door opens, and then- _oh Gods, thank you_ \- they dump me on the metal plating there and march off, the door swishing shut to silence their footfalls. For a moment there is silence, and it has never felt so beautiful.

Then something growls.

I find I'm past the point of caring.

"[Cub. Cub?]"

 _Chewie._ I try to croak his name, but my throat is still too sore from screaming. I need water.

"Han!"

Leia. Some of my fears dissipate- she's all right. There's a light hand on my back, but even that slight contact makes me wince in pain.

"Oh, Han..."

I open my eyes, and only find a blurry floor an inch or two from my face. The harsh lights of the cell stab through my vision, sparking more pain in the seemingly endless cycling of it through my body. They seem to work out I can't talk, and soon I find a bottle at my lips, coaxing them open. A cool river of relief runs down my throat, surprising my nerves by being a sensation that doesn't make me want to cry out.

I begin to feel a little alive again.

It's not a good thing. In response, my limbs flare up again, fire dancing through my arms and chest and even my _face_ , godsdamn it, meaning the first noise my newly-watered mouth utters is a grating moan of protest.

Chewie grunts something- no words, just soothing sounds- and lifts me up like I weigh nothing. Why won't people just forget about me? When will they get it? I don't _want_ to be kept alive, not if it's going to hurt like this.

He lies me down on something hard and metal, but I think it's a bunk, not the floor. When I force my eyes open for a second time, I see Leia above me.

Does she see the certainty in my eyes? The knowledge that I will die?

Chewie does. He offers me more water, and his gentle blue eyes meet mine. I see the mutual understanding.

"[I'll take care of her, Cub.]"

My eyes drift shut again as I nod my thanks.

"Chewie? Han, what's he saying?"

She sounds so young; worried but sounding so accepting, at the same time. I begin to think that maybe she does suspect what's going to happen.

"Sweetheart," I murmur.

She kisses my forehead, and though I try not to show it, it increases my headache two-fold. I don't want her to stop. I need her touch, just to keep me here for a moment or two longer.

"I know, Han," her cold fingers touch mine. On instinct, I tighten my grip on her hand, though it sends waves of pain through my wrist. I think it's broken, probably in more than one place.

"You'll be okay."

I lack the energy for a snide reply, and I've forgotten what sarcasm is, anyway. All I can manage is a little grunt, which is meant to sound disbelieving but comes out as pitiful. I note that I can barely hear it. Abruptly, I realise my senses seem to be fading- my eyes, still shut, see only darkness, all I can taste is metal, my ears are beginning to stop working... and the pain in my chest has faded to a dull ache.

It's as if my mind is disconnecting from my body, one link at a time.

Maybe, somehow, Leia senses it too. She kisses me softly, though part of me thinks that even if she didn't I still would barely feel it. I try to respond but it seems my muscles have given up on me as well.

I guess I should feel scared, nervous at least, but this feels natural. This is probably how dying is meant to feel.

"You with me?"

Yeah, sweetheart. I'm here. Somewhere...

"Han?"

The words come from far away, as if they're echoing down a long, black, endless tunnel. There's a quiet bark afterwards, one I should recognise, one I should understand, I know I should... it just won't make sense in my mind, that's all.

"You hear me, Han?"

Maybe.

Though I don't know who you are, or who Han is.

"I love you."

I don't know what love is, but it warms something inside me, in the centre of my chest, where my consciousness seems to have drifted to. It reminds me of someone, a beautiful, perfect face with a gorgeous smile... and I know.

Leia.

As the blackness rises up to steal whatever awareness I have left, I realise I have to try. I try and force my mouth open, but nothing will obey anymore. I have to concede and hope she will hear my thoughts instead.

 _I love you, too, Leia._

Then my senses completely fade. I am momentarily suspended, lost in oblivion.

Then it swells, overtaking everything I know, have known, will know... and whatever darkness I knew before doesn't seem so deep.


End file.
